


Falling Like Dominoes

by Lynx22281



Series: From the House on Maple Lane [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Brief mention of male lactation, Domestic, Family, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, Kids, M/M, Past Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-18
Updated: 2014-02-18
Packaged: 2018-01-12 22:00:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1202122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynx22281/pseuds/Lynx22281
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Winchester kids are laid low by a nasty stomach bug.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling Like Dominoes

**Author's Note:**

> I have 1600 words written for the next chapter of _Unfold Your Love_ , but then I got the idea for this. Funny how that works.

Dean was underneath the chassis of a faded powder blue and white 1955 Ford Fairlane that a customer had hauled in a few hours ago inspecting her frame for rust when someone kicked his booted foot.   

 

"Hey bossman, Cas is on the phone for you," Jo said, leaning over the open hood to see if she could catch a glimpse of Dean down through the hoses and engine parts. 

 

Dean pulled the Maglite out of his mouth and laid it on his chest to keep it from rolling away.  "Kinda busy.  Take a message." 

 

"Tried to, but he wants to talk to you.  Said it was urgent." 

 

"Alright, alright.  I'm coming."  He dug his heels into the concrete floor to pull the creeper he was laying on out from under the old sedan.   _Urgent_  could mean any number of things coming from a man who was home on paternity leave with a four-week-old; they could be out of diapers, the minivan could have blown up on the side of the road, or somebody could be in the principal's office with a black eye.  After fifteen years of marriage and five kids, it was best to take the word  _urgent_ at face value. 

 

Dean dusted his hands off on the backside of his dark blue coveralls and headed towards the phone hanging on the shop's back wall.  He punched the blinking button for  _Line 1_.  "Hey, babe.  What's up?" 

 

"The school just called.  Robbie threw up in class.  I just got Emma down for a nap.  So, can you go get him?  Please?"  Cas sounded exhausted.  Emma had been colicky for the past few days, and both he and Cas had been taking turns spending the night down in the basement den with the crying baby so the rest of the family could sleep in peace.  Last night had been Cas's turn since Dean was supposed to work a full 8-plus-hour day today. 

 

"Sure, no problem," he said quickly as he unzipped the top of his coveralls.  "I don't think he was feeling too good this morning before school.  He didn't finish his breakfast." 

 

They said their goodbyes and hung up.  Dean checked in with the rest of the guys in the garage before climbing in the Impala and heading to the elementary school to pick up Robbie. 

 

When he got to the school nurse's office, his son was one of three kids sitting in the tiny waiting room.  Each of them was holding a plastic bin in their lap.  At present, all three bins were empty. 

 

"Hey, buddy.  You feel bad?"  Dean frowned down at Robbie, whose freckled cheeks were lightly flushed, and gently ran his fingers through the boy's short blond hair. 

 

The seven-year-old, who was normally the most rambunctious of their four older kids, sucked in his quivering bottom lip and nodded quietly. 

 

"Hi, Mr. Winchester," the nurse said with a kind smile.  "Looks like we have a stomach virus going around." 

 

"That time of the year, I suppose."  He knelt down in front of Robbie's chair.  The kid immediately dropped his plastic tub on the floor and latched on to his dad. 

 

"Yeah," she nodded.  "He threw up not quite an hour ago, but hasn't thrown up since then.  He’s still complaining of nausea and he's running a low grade fever." 

 

Dean could feel the heat from his son's forehead pressing into his neck. 

 

"You should keep him home for the next few days.  This stomach bug is very virulent,” she said just as a teacher escorted another child into the office.  "Make sure he drinks plenty of fluids to stay hydrated." 

 

Dean stood up with Robbie on his hip. The kid was like a limp noodle lying against Dean's shoulder.  He rubbed the boy's back gently.  "Will do." 

 

Just as he turned to leave the office, the nurse held out a pink plastic basin.  "Here, you might need this." 

 

"Right, thanks." Dean smiled and took the bin before heading out to the reception desk to sign his kid out for the rest of the day. 

 

Robbie curled up in the backseat of the Impala while Dean dug his phone out of the pocket of his jeans.  Thankfully, one of Cas's ingenious co-workers had bought him a subscription to their favorite grocery store's shopping service as a shower gift before Emma was born.  He could send in an order online and pick it up on his way home without getting out of the car.  Dean punched in an order for Pedialyte, Gatorade, ginger ale, saltines, bananas, and a big jar of applesauce. 

 

"Dad," Robbie whined in that tone that could only mean one thing. 

 

Dean whipped around quickly to grab the basin from the floor and hold it up while Robbie leaned over the edge of the seat and threw up again. 

 

"Hang on, kiddo.  We're gonna swing by the grocery store and then get you home," he said as he pulled the car out of the school parking lot. 

 

Robbie threw up again during the short drive between the grocery store and home.  Dean carried him and the bags of groceries into the house leaving the tub of vomit on the driveway next to the car to be dealt with later. 

 

"Cas, we're here," he called as he dropped off the bags on the kitchen counter and took Robbie straight to the half-bath/laundry room next to the mudroom.  A pallet of pillows and blankets was already waiting on the floor in front of the washer and dryer for the sick little boy.   

 

Cas appeared in the doorway as Dean helped Robbie strip off his school clothes and get back into his  _Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle_  pajamas. 

 

"How bad is it?" he asked. 

 

"By the time we left, the nurse had three other kids in her office waiting to be picked up.  He threw up twice in the car on the way home."  Dean pulled a fleece blanket over the boy once he settled down onto the floor with his stuffed Donatello. 

 

"Papa," Robbie called, reaching out towards Cas. 

 

Smiling sadly, Cas knelt down next to him, reaching out to gently push his bangs back from his warm forehead.  "Hey, sweetheart.  I'm sorry you're sick." 

 

A big fat tear rolled down his cheek as he asked, "Am I gonna miss the play tomorrow?" 

 

"We'll see, ok?"  Cas leaned down to kiss his temple.  Robbie had been looking forward to being Abraham Lincoln in his class play.  Dean had helped him memorize his handful of lines and Cas had made him an outrageously tall Stove-pipe hat out of cardboard and felt. 

 

The boy whimpered and rubbed his face into the belly of his purple-masked turtle. 

 

Dean headed out to the kitchen to put away the groceries while Cas stayed in the laundry room to comfort their son for a while.  The baby monitor on the counter was blessedly quiet for the time being.  Emma was finally down for the count since she'd spent the better part of the night and early morning screaming her head off.  They weren't sure what had her so upset, but she was only moderately soothed if somebody was holding her skin-to-skin and didn't completely calm down until she exhausted herself and fell asleep. 

 

As he arranged the condiments in the fridge door so he could put a two-liter of ginger ale on the bottom shelf, Dean heard the telltale sound of retching.  When he walked back to the laundry room, Cas was carefully pulling Robbie's t-shirt over his head.  Donatello and the fleece blanket were in a vomit covered heap by the washer. 

 

"Will you grab him some clean pajamas?" Cas asked without looking up.   

 

"Yeah, sure."  Dean dashed up to the boys' room and threw a pile of clean shirts, pj pants, underwear, and socks into a laundry basket. 

 

When he got back downstairs, Cas was sitting cross legged on the pallet of blankets cradling a nearly naked, crying Robbie in his lap.  He gave Dean a somber look.  They both hated seeing their kids sick and being unable to make their discomfort go away.  Together they got Robbie redressed and settled back down under the covers with a plastic bowl by his head.  By the time he finally drifted off into a fitful doze, the other kids walked in through the front door. 

 

A loud wail alerted Cas and Dean that this wasn't a normal homecoming.  They both jumped up and ran out of the room. 

 

Jack stood in the entryway, sobbing over a puddle of vomit.  Dean swiftly grabbed him under his arm pits and hauled him straight to the laundry room, passing Claire as she dashed back from the kitchen with a roll of paper towels to clean up the mess. 

 

Two hours later, the two younger boys were still actively sick, the baby was awake and crying to be fed, and the two older kids were hiding downstairs in the basement working on their homework.  Cas left Dean tending to the sick boys while he went upstairs to nurse Emma.   

 

"Daddy, I don't feel good," Jack whined after he threw up for the fourth time. 

 

"I know, pal.  I know."  Dean cuddled the five-year-old close to his chest as he sat on the floor, propped up against the warm, running dryer.  They’d already had to change out most of the bedding that made up the pallets.  Jack felt so bad that he couldn’t even bother throwing up in the bowl unless it was right under his nose.  There wasn't anything else to do for the time being, but wait out the sickness and hope nobody took a turn for the worst.  This wasn't the first time they'd dealt with a stomach bug running rampant through the family, though the last time had been back when Robbie was still a baby.   

 

"Dad?" Claire asked from the safety of the hallway.  "Me and Eric are hungry.  Can I fix us dinner?" 

 

"Yeah, you guys can have the leftover chicken casserole or make a box of mac and cheese," he answered, not bothering to get up from the floor. 

 

"Ok."  She scooted off to the kitchen and Dean could hear her banging around in the cabinets. 

 

He stayed with the boys and got pretty good at anticipating when the bowl needed to be thrust under somebody’s head before they threw up all over the place.  Things were manageable for about half an hour until Jack started exploding from both ends simultaneously.  Dean quickly jumped up to strip him naked and stick him on the toilet with a trash can between his knees before tossing his soiled pajamas and bedding into the washer.  He cleaned the kid up with a damp towel as much as possible and then ran upstairs to change his own poop and puke covered clothes, yelling for Claire to keep an eye on her little brother as he went.   

 

After a very quick shower and change of clothes, Dean met Cas in the hallway with Emma strapped to his chest in her yellow sling and her diaper bag on one shoulder.  They headed downstairs together.  Cas stopped in the doorway of the laundry room while Dean went in, carefully stepping over the sick boys to get to the washing machine.  "Dean, I really need to get Emma out of the house before she catches whatever they have.  Can you manage the kids by yourself?" 

 

"Yeah, Cas, I got it," he replied with a grimace as Robbie dry heaved into the bowl.  Of course their youngest was too little to have any chance against whatever nasty bug her siblings had picked up from school.  The older kids would be fine as long as they stayed hydrated until the sickness had passed, but the baby was too small to lose so much fluid if she started spitting up or got diarrhea.  He stuffed his dirty clothes in the washer and pulled the dial, starting the cycle.  "Where are you two heading?" 

 

"I called Bobby.  He said we could go stay with him."  Emma started to fuss.  Cas rocked from side to side as he gently patted her bottom through the fabric of the sling. 

 

"He might regret that invitation by tomorrow morning."  Dean chuckled ruefully as he left the room to walk Cas and Emma to the front door. 

 

"Call me if anything changes with Jack and Robbie."  Cas leaned in for a quick peck to Dean's cheek before he and Emma headed to the big blue minivan parked in the driveway next to the Impala. 

 

With Cas and the baby gone, the evening crawled by.  After dinner, Claire and Eric went down to the basement to watch TV until bedtime.  Jack and Robbie stopped throwing up, but Dean kept them in the laundry room just in case.  At 8 o'clock, he took the two sick boys upstairs for a bath and fresh change of clothes.  He pulled the twin mattress off the bottom bunk in the boys' room and dragged it into the master bedroom where he put them to bed.  Eric headed up for his bath an hour later and then marveled at the fact that he was going to sleep all alone in the room for the first time ever while Dean tucked him in.  After Claire took a shower, she kept an eye on her younger brothers while her dad checked to make sure the house was locked up for the night.  When Dean got back upstairs, he kissed his eldest goodnight before she headed across the hall to her room. 

 

At 3am, he heard a door open and little feet race towards the kids' bathroom at the end of the hall.  With a sigh, he crawled out of bed.  Jack and Robbie were still fast asleep on the mattress, neither of them showing signs of having moved at all in the last few hours.  When he poked his head out into the hallway, he saw Eric hunched over the toilet. 

 

Grabbing a washcloth from the linen closet, Dean headed to the bathroom and ran the cloth under cool water.  He held it out for Eric to wash his face with when the kid finally raised his face up from the commode.  Dean stayed with his oldest son on the bathroom floor for the next hour and a half until he finally seemed to be over the worst of the vomiting.  He brought Eric into the master bedroom letting the kid sleep on the bed curled up next to him under his Batman comforter. 

 

The alarm clock started blaring just as Dean drifted into the half-sleep/half-awake pattern all parents fell into when their kids were sick during the night.  Bleary-eyed, he dragged himself out of bed and across the hall to wake Claire up for school.  They went downstairs together still in their pajamas to fix breakfast.  He decided to make her favorite since she was the only one around to eat.  Sitting at the bar, Claire picked at her French toast and looked over her physical science textbook. 

 

"You feeling ok, Claire-bear?" he asked as he packed her lunch, now concerned about her lack of appetite. 

 

"Yeah," she said unconvincingly without looking up from her book.  She stuck her fork in the middle of the French toast stack like a flag pole with no flag. 

 

Dean leaned over the counter to press the back of his hand against her forehead.  She didn't feel warm, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t already on the road to the stomach bug. 

 

"Dad, I'm fine," she reassured him with a half-hearted smile as she looked up from her book.  "I'm just nervous about today's test." 

 

Claire's eighth grade science class had a test on chemical bonds today that she'd been worried about all week.  Their teacher Mrs. Gumenick was out on maternity leave and their substitute teacher didn't explain things quite the same way she did.  Claire was having difficulty adjusting to a new teaching style in the middle of the school year in the subject she had the most trouble with. 

 

"Papa said you were doing really good when he quizzed you a couple nights ago.  You'll do fine," he said encouragingly as he came around the counter to squeeze her shoulder.  "Will you take notes to your brothers' teachers?  They'll probably be out for the rest of the week." 

 

"Sure."  She hopped down from the barstool and rinsed off her syrupy plate before putting it in the dishwasher. 

 

Together they marched back upstairs so Claire could finish getting ready for school and Dean could rouse the boys to check on them and make them drink something.  After Claire left the house to meet the school bus at the end of their street, Dean crawled into bed next to Eric intending to get a couple of hours of shut eye. 

 

Around mid-morning, he woke the boys up and moved them downstairs to the living room couch.  The three of them were feeling somewhat better, but were still lethargic, quietly veging out in front of the TV.  Dean kept their sippy cups full and managed to get them to eat a couple spoonfuls of applesauce each before they all passed out for a nap.  He sent a text to Cas letting him know that Eric was staying home from school, and then sat at the kitchen table with his laptop to go through his work emails. 

   

At 11:30, the house phone rang breaking the stillness. 

 

Dean jumped up to answer it before the noise could wake up the boys.  "Hello?" 

 

"Hello, Mr. Winchester.  This is Cindy at Lawrence Middle School..." 

 

"Oh, crap," he interrupted her.  "Claire?" 

 

He could hear her sympathetic smile over the line.  "I'm afraid so." 

 

Sighing, he said, "Alright.  I'll be there in a few minutes." 

 

"She'll be in the nurse's office." 

 

He hung up and immediately dialed Ellen's number as he headed upstairs to change out of his pajamas. 

 

"Hello?" their neighbor answered on the third ring. 

 

"Hey, Ellen.  I need a big favor." 

 

"Sure thing.  What can I do for you?" 

 

"Can you come watch the boys for a few minutes while I run to pick up Claire from school?" 

 

"Do I need a hazmat suit?" she asked with a chuckle.  It wasn't hard to guess that if three of the Winchester kids were already at home and another one had to be picked up early on a school day, then they were probably all sick. 

 

"Wouldn't hurt." 

 

"I'm on my way out the door." 

 

Five minutes later, Ellen came in through the mudroom door.  

 

"Thanks so much for coming over," Dean said as he checked on the boys who were still asleep in a pile of blankets and pillows on the couch. 

 

She smiled.  "All of them got it?" 

 

"Yep.  Had to pick up Robbie early yesterday, then Jack tossed his cookies in the hallway as soon as he got in the house after school.  Cas and Emma hightailed it to Bobby's.  Eric woke up sick in the middle of the night.  Now, I've gotta go get Claire." 

 

"You poor man."  Ellen patted his shoulder gently.  "Well, don't worry about these three.  It doesn’t look like they’ll be awake anytime soon. “ 

 

"I owe you big," he said with a tired smile as he grabbed his coat and headed out to the car. 

 

Claire was sitting with four other kids in the nurse's tiny office waiting to be picked up.  She dragged herself out of her chair as soon as she saw her dad round the corner. 

 

Dean wrapped her up in a big hug, leaning down to rest his cheek against her forehead.  She was warm, much warmer than she had been at breakfast.  "Hey, baby.  Did you get to finish your test?" 

 

"Barely," she replied burying her face into his jacket. 

 

"Well, at least you don't have to worry about it now."  He led her out of the school and to the car.  She climbed in the passenger side and slid across the bench seat to lean against Dean's side during the ride home.  He drove with his right arm wrapped around her, rubbing his thumb soothingly over her shoulder. 

 

They made it to the house without any incidents, but as soon as they got in the house, Claire bolted straight upstairs to the bathroom.  Robbie was sitting at the bar chewing on a piece of dry toast when Dean walked into the kitchen. 

 

"Got your youngest laid out in the laundry room.  He started throwing up again and I had to change his clothes.  I woke Eric up a little while ago to make him drink some Gatorade, but then he went right back to sleep.  The Robster here said he was hungry so I made him some toast.  He seems to be bouncing back pretty quick."  Ellen swiped her hand over the counter, pushing a smattering of toast crumbs into the sink. 

 

Robbie gave his dad a gap-toothed grin.  "Can I go play upstairs?" 

 

"Nah, buddy.  You need to stay down here and rest today, ok?"  Dean gently ruffled his hair. 

 

The seven-year-old shrugged, unperturbed, and went back to munching his toast. 

 

"You're a lifesaver, Ellen," he said letting the older woman pull him into a warm hug. 

 

"No problem.  If you need anything, just give me a holler," she offered with a smile.  "I got two patients who could pop at any minute, so I'm not planning on leaving the house until I hear from one of them.”  

 

After Ellen left, Dean checked on Jack in the laundry room (the kid was splayed out on his back like a starfish, fast asleep) and then went up to check on Claire.  

 

He knocked on the bathroom door.  “How ya doin’, sweetheart?” 

 

“Please don’t come in,” she said pitifully over the flush of the toilet.   

 

“Need anything?” 

 

“No.” 

 

Dean sighed.  While the boys wanted to be cuddled in somebody’s lap when they didn’t feel good, Claire wanted to be left alone.  He didn’t like that he couldn’t do anything for her, but she was that much like her papa when it came to being sick.  Cas had always preferred burrowing under the covers in the dark bedroom to wallow in his misery alone whenever he got sick; Dean hadn’t been able get anywhere near him when he was curled over the toilet battling five rounds of morning sickness.  Claire had no problem helping to take care of her little brothers whenever they got sick, always quick to help mop up puke or wipe snotty noses, but she did not want the favor returned.  However, the minute she snuggled up close to Dean or Cas, they knew she was feeling better.  

 

“I’m gonna leave the baby monitor out here for you to get when you can.  If you need me, just call, ok?” 

 

“Thanks, daddy,” she replied quietly. 

 

Her soft little  _daddy_  broke his heart.  That was his sick little girl in there and there wasn’t anything he could do to make her feel better.  Sure, there wasn’t really anything he could do to make the boys feel better either, but at least he could hold them close and stroke their hair.    

 

After grabbing the monitor from the nursery and placing it on the floor by the bathroom door, Dean went back downstairs.  Eric and Robbie were awake, staring at  _Spongebob_  on the TV like two little zombies, and Jack was still passed out in the laundry room. 

 

The afternoon dragged on with Dean running regular circuits around the house.  He kept Eric’s and Robbie’s cups full, checked on Jack who thankfully hadn’t thrown up again, and went upstairs to make sure Claire was ok.  She’d finally come out of the bathroom after an hour and curled up in her dads’ bed with the TV on low. 

 

By 5 o’clock, it seemed as though the 24-hour stomach bug had blown over.  Fevers were almost gone and nobody had thrown up in over three hours. 

 

Breathing a sigh of relief, Dean dug out his cell phone to call Cas. 

 

“Bobby is the  _baby whisperer_ ,” were the first words out of his husband’s mouth. 

 

“What?” Dean laughed. 

 

“As soon as I got here yesterday, he put on the sling, tucked Emma in, and she went right to sleep.  He made me pump and fix a few bottles so he could feed her, then sent me straight to bed.  I didn’t get up until noon.  Dean, I slept for 16 hours,” he said in amazement. 

 

“Wow.  Does he want a job as our nanny?” 

 

Dean heard Bobby guffaw in the background when Cas asked if he was for hire.  Chuckling, he filled Cas in on how many loads of laundry he’d done (7), who had thrown up the most (Jack), and how badly he hoped this never happened again (it would).  

 

“If all stays quiet tonight, we’ll be home tomorrow.  Emma should be ok as long as everybody keeps their hands washed.” 

 

“Yeah, guess I need to go hose everything down with Lysol.” 

 

They said their  _miss yous_  and  _love yous_  before Dean passed the phone around to the kids so they could talk to their papa while he loaded up a bucket of cleaning supplies to get started on disinfecting the downstairs. 

 

***** 

 

When Cas came home late the next morning, he was greeted by four kids happily sprawled out on the living room couch watching  _Toy Story 2_  and one husband unhappily hugging the toilet in the master bathroom.  

 


End file.
